


Hide In The Sky

by Bonymaloney (orphan_account)



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Blood, Body Horror, Come Eating, Dragonfly, Frottage, Itching, M/M, Making Out, Mutual Masturbation, Wings, frenemies to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 03:39:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10890915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Bonymaloney
Summary: Robbie just can't bear the itching...





	1. Fall to my knees

Robbie couldn't bear the itching. 

It had started off subtly, just a little tickle between his shoulder blades. Just the wrong spot to be reached from either above or below - he wasn't the most flexible, not like certain people he could mention, who could do things with their elbows that were frankly obscene - but it was always nice to have an excuse for an invention, and the FingerFlexer 3000 did the job admirably. 

For a while. 

At some point he realised he was spending nearly all day just standing there, letting the robot scratch his back. Time was always a fairly flexible concept for Robbie, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd done a bit of villainy, or even left the lair. The itch had spread, too, it was all across his back now, a band running in between and almost - underneath? - his shoulder blades. 

He gave a growl of frustration and stepped away from the device, leaning back against a wall and _rubbing_ , rubbing like he was a damn cow, and he wasn't even wearing the costume. 

He dumped a load of violently purple effervescent salts in the bathtub, and for a while, that helped as well. He was able dress in his pajamas, the smooth silk soothing against his back, and lie back in his chair, to fall into an uneasy sleep. 

When he awoke his back was worse, itchy and hot, so hot it was almost painful. He felt as though he were lying on a particularly lumpy little cushion, but whenever he turned round there was nothing there. He needed a mirror, he needed two mirrors and to stand between them and see, but when he tried to get up he felt dizzy and sick.

His shirt felt too tight, and he yanked it off. The soft fur of his chair, normally so comforting against his skin, was unbearable, ticklish and rough, the individual strands felt like they were somehow _crawling..._

Whimpering, Robbie pitched himself forwards, landing on hands and knees, but the crawling didn't stop, if anything it was worse, so much awful squirming pressure in his back, and it _hurt..._

 _Fuck,_ he thought to himself. He'd been trying desperately to avoid it, but he couldn't see any other option. 

_Hurts, I'm in trouble, I'm in trouble bad, I need help..._

Admitting to himself that he was in trouble was all it took. There was a clang, a rattle, and then the blue idiot landed in the middle of the lair, silent on his feet like a cat. 

"Gosh!" he announced when he saw Robbie, an expression that Robbie knew approximated in Elvish to "fuck me sideways!", but before he could mock Sportacus for it a fresh band of pain seared through his back, and Robbie howled. 

"Gosh!" Sportacus swore at the sight in front of him, Robbie shirtless on his knees. He was paler than usual and pouring with sweat, bent over double, and his back... 

His back was swollen, two angry red lumps bulging between and just below his shoulder blades. The centre of each of the uneven protrusions was tense and white, and as Sportacus looked closer he saw something moving, writhing beneath the skin. 

Sportacus felt overwhelmed, and a little sick. All elves had some healing magic, and according to his nature he could set limbs, pull shoulders and ease torn muscles, but this was far beyond him. He considered returning to the ship for information, calling on another hero, or taking Robbie to a human hospital, but decided that his first priority should be to at least make Robbie more comfortable.

He lifted Robbie into his chair and propped him on his side, careful to hold him by the waist and not touch his back. Robbie just groaned, and Sportacus thought he wasn't entirely conscious. Kneeling behind him on the chair, he could see the swelling on the right getting bigger, coming to a sharp edge, skin stretched taut over whatever was emerging from underneath... it burst, and Robbie screamed, as clear slightly oily liquid leaked down his back. 

Sportacus forced himself to look closely at the emerging structure. It was pale, delicate yet somehow strong, like wet silk. The edges were rounded on one side, flat on the other, it was like...

Several things Sportacus had wondered about in the past suddenly came together. Things like surviving on a diet that was mostly sugar, the ability to change costumes in the blink of an eye, the way Sportacus was so drawn to him and yet so suspicious...

"Robbie!"

Robbie was keening softly, pressing his face desperately into the chair. His knuckles were white where his hands clawed deep into the fabric. 

"Robbie, you're gonna have wings!"

Robbie screamed again, back arching as the right wing forced itself further out. The left looked as though it was about to emerge as well. Sportacus wrapped his arms around Robbie, bracing him, letting him hide his face in the side of Sportacus' neck as he sobbed. He reached and gently straightened the wing, scraping his fingers across it softly to scoop as much of the fluid away from it as possible. He had the idea that if it could straighten out and dry, it might be more comfortable. 

Robbie shuddered in his arms, and made a sound that was definitely _not_ a sob. Sportacus felt his cheeks flush, but he kept smoothing and stroking, Robbie moaning and gasping in his arms, clinging to him so tightly Sportacus was sure he'd leave bruises. His cries rose to a crescendo of pleasure and pain as the second wing erupted from its bud, Sportacus feeling gently for the tip and guiding it free as more fluid went pouring down Robbie's back. 

Robbie made a sound that was an ecstasy of relief. He had an absolutely raging erection, which Sportacus was fairly sure he knew nothing about, transported as he was. He clung to Sportacus, laughing and crying and shaking, face contorted in sheer bliss, as his wings dried and settled, and eventually began to move of their own accord, of _Robbie's_ accord. 

"Wow, oh wow," he kept saying, over and over, until he abruptly fell asleep in Sportacus' arms. 

Sportacus laid him gently in his chair, covering him with the blankets and cushions he found so soothing. Then he went to the other side of the lair and did push-ups until the effects of being in close contact with a sweaty, slippery, half-naked Robbie had dissipated. He treated himself to a bottle of water and an apple, then lay with his head on his pack, thoughtfully watching Robbie sleep. 

Things in Lazy Town were about to get _interesting_ .


	2. The wild sound's gonna take me away

Sportacus was whiling away the time before bed by doing one-armed push-ups and reading a book on the hundred greatest apple receipes when the airship alerted him to the presence of a visitor. They were circling hundreds of feet above the town, and his first thought was that it must be one of his family, or another hero. 

The sight that greeted him was almost too bizarre to take in. Robbie, grinning wickedly, wings whirring as they beat the cool evening air like a dragonfly. Robbie was always a little taller than Sportacus, and his wingspan made him seem even bigger as he soared above him now, a darker purple in the twilight sky. It was oddly exciting, and Sportacus thought Robbie knew it, thought he was showing off. 

"Well, Sportadork? Aren't you going to invite me in?"

Sportacus grinned too, as he stepped back and made room for Robbie to come through the hatch. 

"That's... wow, Robbie! You flew really high, it's really impressive!"

"I've been practising. Just in the lair at first, and then I would go out. After dark though, so no one could see me."

"Why don't you..." Sportacus tailed off, shrugging awkwardly. The wings were a pearly white, with iridescent veins of green and purple. Robbie had obviously tailored his jacket to allow them to move freely, and Sportacus thought they were beautiful. 

"I don't want the whole town knowing I can fly! It'll be all 'fly here, fly there, my frisbee got stuck on the roof, boo hoo...' And besides," he grimaced, "it's kind of weird. Not the kind of thing you expect to happen to you when you're thirty. I guess there's a few things my father hasn't told me, not that it would be the first time. "

He frowned at the floor, rubbing at the back of his neck. He took a deep breath and made to speak, just as Sportacus, sensing his internal dilemma, stepped forward and placed a hand gently on his shoulder. 

Robbie closed his mouth again abruptly, licking his lips, eyes never leaving Sportacus'. 

"I thought maybe," he said quietly, "you might know a bit about this. With you being, you know. How you are."

Sportacus smiled and pulled his hat off, letting Robbie see his ears, his thick dirty blond hair. Robbie smiled back, just a little, and let his wings flutter. 

"I'll do anything I can to help, Robbie," Sportacus said softly, his heart pounding. Robbie was so close, Sportacus could see his eyeshadow, purple with a hint of green, matched to his wings. Robbie was so stylish, his hands were so big and clever, he was...

He was kissing Sportacus. Deep and gentle, his arms so warm, he tasted strongly of toothpaste and all Sportacus could think was that Robbie must have brushed his teeth before he came, trying to get rid of every single hint of sugar just in case they ended up like this. It was wonderful. 

Robbie could feel the inhuman sharpness of Sportacus' teeth, the taste of him like wild honey. Felt the way he was like a coiled bundle of pure energy, muscles trembling under his fingers. He was hard, and he could feel that Sportacus was too, and he desperately, _desperately_ , wanted Sportacus to touch his wings again. But how to go about asking for something like that? It still sounded bizarre to him in his head whenever he even thought of the wings, let alone mentioning them aloud...

Sportacus took his hand and guided it up gently to his ear, letting a shuddering moan escape into Robbie's mouth as Robbie ran his finger gently along the cartilage to the point. 

_Oh._

Sportacus' hands slid under his jacket, caressing his ribs before delicately holding and stroking and...

Robbie hadn't understood initially why the undersides of his wings were so sensitive, had been frightened to try flying with structures that seemed so delicate. Then he'd realised that the upper surfaces were tough, they provided rigidity, while the undersides were finely tuned to feel the air and the currents, to allow him to make those minute adjustments he realised he didn't even need to think about making. 

And now Sportacus was touching him there and it was good, it was wonderful, and he'd - 

He'd produced a bed from somewhere, spacious and smooth, all crisp white sheets and Robbie wanted nothing more than to mess it up. He slipped off his jacket, pocketed his cufflinks and rolled up his sleeves. Sportacus took his crystal and placed it with reverence in a little niche in the wall, almost a shrine, before tugging the rest of his uniform off with far less care. 

Robbie pushed his hands up under Sportacus' t-shirt, relishing the hot skin, taut, finely sculpted belly and pectorals, rolling the shirt up until it was over the elf's head, but still leaving his arms trapped. He straddled him, kissing and lapping at his throat, his clavicles, his pert little nipples. Sportacus was almost hairless, whether that was an elf thing or a him thing Robbie wasn't sure, but the trend continued as he pulled his trousers and his tight little sky blue boxers down to his knees. 

Sportacus was thick and smooth, pink and leaking at the tip, and Robbie groaned with lust, felt his mouth watering at the sight. Sportacus got one arm free and began to stroke himself, displaying himself to Robbie. Robbie pulled his own cock free, heavy and oh so sensitive in his hand. 

"I want to come on you," he growled, "would that be ok?"

It was apparently very ok, as Sportacus let out a little gasping cry of surprise and delight and finished, thrusting up against his own hand as his abs clenched. The sight tipped Robbie over the edge, and he followed shortly after, spurting his cum across Sportacus' belky and his perfect navel. He gripped him by the hips and pinned him down, licking him clean, relishing the taste of himself mingled with Sportacus' salty-sweet skin.

They lay in companionable silence, Sportacus cradling Robbie into his side, free arm tucked idly behind his head. 

"When you're here, who's flying the ship?" Robbie said eventually. 

"She's flying herself. It's ok. She knows when I'm busy, and the crystal will tell me anything urgent."

"She, ah, she knows you're busy?" Robbie squeaked. "As in, she's... watching?"

"It's alright, Robbie," Sportacus chuckled, "it doesn't mean anything different to her."

"That's not as reassuring as you meant it," Robbie grumbled, and pulled the sheet a little higher around his waist. Sportacus made a little sighing sound, and soon Robbie realised that he'd begun to snore lightly. 

He checked his watch. Well past 8.08. 

Sportacus was so contented looking, so peaceful, his face so beautiful in sleep that Robbie couldn't help but watch him for a while, until the sudden realisation that that was what he was doing hit him, and then he felt unbearably self conscious and creepy. 

He slipped out of Sportacus' embrace, straightened his shirt, made his way towards the hatch. The door slid down silently, and he could smell the night air, wings stirring eagerly. 

"Don't worry, Robbie," a calm, slightly metallic sounding voice spoke to him. "I will tell Sportacus that you wanted to get a change of clothes."

The thought that an AI was able to come up with a smoother excuse for leaving than he was made Robbie feel even more awkward. 

"Fine," he snapped. "And tell him... tell him he should come for breakfast, ok? But tell him to bring his own food. I don't have any of that gross stuff. But thank you."

Dying inside, he leapt over the side, spreading his wings and letting the night breeze take him. 

One thing that could be said for having wings, he mused, they certainly made it much easier to escape social situations.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is outside the continuity (such as it is) of my series, cause my headcanon for Robbie is still that he's just a lazy, nerdy human, who is mostly Like That because for some reason fate has decided that he's an avatar of villainy, and forced him into a nemesis relationship with an unfairly attractive sports elf. 
> 
> BUT I got this idea and couldn't get it out of my head. So enjoy wings (and pwp, gotta maintain the brand).


End file.
